


Mistakes Were Made

by trashmagi (SetsuntaMew)



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Final Arc Spoilers, M/M, Mpreg, Trans Male Character, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 00:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12876723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SetsuntaMew/pseuds/trashmagi
Summary: Judal realizes there are unfortunate consequences to his actions.





	Mistakes Were Made

**Author's Note:**

> throws this onto ao3 and runs ~~this has some of my most hidden kinks in it but I couldn't help myself goodbye~~

Judal never gave much thought to the background magic he used to maintain himself. Something simple to hide any imperfections on his skin, and some shit Al Tharman put on him when he hit puberty and declared he didn’t want the shit the came with it. It was always thrumming in the background but he never had to work to maintain it, so he never thought about the consequences of his life _without_ it.

He’s not surprised that the isolation barrier stopped their effects, but he somehow thought that they’d start back up on their own, and there was just so much else happening that he didn’t notice they were missing.

Unfortunately, the consequences of his actions just seem really fucking intent on sneaking up on him lately.

He’s been feeling queasy for days, but he’s also been on an ancient dragon flying over the Dark Continent the whole time, so it’s hard to tell what’s an actual problem. Alibaba’s incessant chatter isn’t helping his overall mood, either.

Judal curls in on himself, clutching his rebellious stomach as he tries to force down the nausea. He’s not gonna throw up over the side of the dragon! Despite everything, he still has _some_ pride left.

A shadow falls over his face and he groans, cracking an eye open. Alibaba’s beady clay eyes stare down at him. “What?” Judal snaps, not in the mood for conversation when he already feels like shit.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Judal just groans again.

“I’m fine. I’d be _better_ if you weren’t pestering me,” he answers shortly, trying to roll away. That was apparently the wrongest choice for his stomachache, and Judal has to freeze in place to avoid vomiting. This is bullshit.

“Really? You look sick,” Alibaba points out tactlessly.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m stuck riding on a dragon, and I’m _not_ a clay doll! It’s making me sick!” he says, resisting the urge to punt Alibaba off the side of the dragon.

“Why would-”

“It’s a bumpy ride! I’d rather be on a carpet or my staff, but this stupid rukh here won’t listen to me,” he whines, rolling onto his back. His stomach complains, but it’ll have to fucking deal. This is more comfortable.

Alibaba pats his shoulder, and Judal swats at him. “I’m sorry you’re doing so poorly,” he says. Judal can only hope it isn’t the beginning of some sort of long speech that’s supposed to be uplifting but always just turns out obliviously, sickeningly positive.

Judal feels queasy just thinking about whatever shit is about to fall out of Alibaba’s mouth, but that might be whatever this weird stomach sickness is. Maybe he really should have paid attention to all those lessons Al Tharman tried to give him about healing magic, but he figured he’d always have someone there to fix his injuries for him. Now he’s stuck trying to feel through his magoi, hoping he can actually work out what’s making him feel like shit.

Something feels off. He’s not sure how he missed it before - though it’s probably because he wasn’t really looking until now - and his face twists into a disappointed frown. It feels like there’s something _else_ in there, something that both feels like him and decidedly not him, and not at all like Mogamet’s stolen rukh feels like.

He doesn’t like it.

It's that there's something more to the rukh within him, something familiar that he can’t put his finger on, but Judal has to stop before he can figure it out. Whether he wants to or not, he’s gonna have to vomit off the side of a magical bullshit-old dragon. He shoves Alibaba out of his way and heaves.

This is fucking humiliating, and he’s reconsidering throwing Alibaba off the edge to avoid ever having to face him again.

Judal wipes his mouth when he’s finally done retching, wishing he could somehow magic the horrible taste out of his mouth. Maybe it’s all the stupid alien looking plants he’s been eating? This is what he gets for eating his vegetables: stomach sickness. That’s a more appealing answer than whatever the hell else it could be.

Alibaba is surprisingly quiet. Good. He can lie to himself and believe that he’s learned his lesson about bothering him for now.

He takes a deep breath and goes back to feeling around in the rukh of his stomach. It still feels like something foreign has taken up residence even after throwing up, so apparently this isn’t just what having nausea feels like. Good to know. It’s not a particularly _large_ change, but it’s still there, taunting him with its presence. He’s taking this rare moment of silence to think it through, trying so hard to understand why it pings as something familiar, until it comes to him. It feels like Hakuryuu but not quite because it’s mixed up with himself and something else, and he’s giving himself a headache almost as bad as his nausea over this. Time to think about something else, something more enjoyable.

Judal thinks back to the days after killing Gyokuen, to the hazy mess of him and Hakuryuu between the sheets, using physical intimacy to hide how much they want to put their desperation into words, and he suddenly has the sinking feeling that he knows exactly how he got into this mess.

He’s gonna be sick again.

Alibaba squawks when he shoves him away and Judal empties whatever last bits of food were clinging to the insides of his stomach despite how much it burns his throat on the way out. He can’t think about this right now, or ever really. Even the idea of it makes him feel disgusting and wrong, like he’s a visitor in his own body, and knowing that it’s probably what’s actually fucking happening to him right now is just too horrifying to comprehend.

Judal lays back down, an arm resting across his eyes to avoid looking directly at the barren sky above him, and sighs heavily.

“Haha, good thing you’re a guy! At least you know you’re not pregnant!” Alibaba points out, laughing, and Judal finally does chuck him off the dragon.

**Author's Note:**

> this is planned as 3-5 short chapters so stay tuned for next time ;D I'm not giving an update schedule (since I'm already doing weekly updates on a longer fic) but it shouldn't take longer than a week or two to get the next chapter up~ thanks for reading!!


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